Honor to a Memory
by HiddenMaster
Summary: Nobodies have lost everything-their lives, their homes, their friends, even their hearts The only thing they have left is memories of who they used to be It is their choice to remain true to who they were, or to abandon everything that once made them who they are


Kingdom Hearts is owned and produced by Disney and Square Enix

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Should they, or any of their affiliates, request it this non-profit story will be taken off line as quickly as possible.

Any original characters, however, are owned by me and me alone. Should I find out someone has stolen my characters, I will find them and launch them out of a cannon and into the sun. Or beat them to death with a napkin, whichever mood I am in. If you want to use the characters, just ask. I'll probably say yes.

Feedback is encouraged. Flames will be used to roast marshmallows.

Anyway, let's get on with the story, shall we?

**Honor to a Memory**

Golden sunlight filtered through a blanket of white clouds enveloping the sky, the celestial rays reaching out to gently caress the earth in waves of nourishing warmth. Birds gracefully flew through the air in flashes of color, their songs coming together to form a beautiful symphony of sound. Thousands of flowers, revitalized by recent rain, had blossomed into full bloom, their sweet scents perfuming the air.

All in all, it was a beautiful day to burn a witch.

The witch in question, one Naomi Evans, had already been tried, judged, and sentenced. There was nothing left to do but finish her execution.

Naomi stood upon her own funeral pyre, chained to tall, sturdy oak pole embedded in the ground in the middle of the village square. Anyone observing her could see that she looked defeated. She was slumped over, not even bothering to support herself, her long, obsidian hair, stringy and dirty from neglect, cascading over and concealing her face. Her knee length blue dress was tattered and torn ruined beyond the point of no return by the past few days "experience".

Surrounding Naomi on all sides was a rather large crowd. Some would consider this gathering of humanity to be an angry mob made up from a good portion of the village's population. Every last individual had come to see the source of the past year's grievances cleansed from the world. For the better part of a year, the village had been plagued by tragedy: first a drought, rampant fires, plague, food shortages, far too many murders, and various generally ill omens.

At first, the village thought they had merely earned the disfavor of one of the gods. This was known to occasionally happen, and, while unfortunate, was hardly unusual. Offerings were put out, prayers for forgiveness were uttered, and everyone went to the local temple far more often than they did in times of plenty. The continued tragedy convinced almost everyone that the village was cursed, doomed to die in bits and pieces. Many had started packing up, hoping to start anew elsewhere where the god's disfavor wasn't so harsh.

Then, something strange happened. A woodcutter spotted a young woman in the middle of the forest, performing what could only be a ritual of some sort. The very next day, a family on the outskirts of the village, down to every last child, died of plague.

The situation, all of their troubles and hardships, became crystal clear: there was a witch amongst them, and it was abundantly clear who was responsible for all of the village's troubles.

The very same day the family was found dead, Naomi was arrested on charges of witchcraft. The people knew the gods smiled down upon them for their capture of the witch when the clouds gathered and brought beautiful, life-giving rain to the parched land for the first time in months. This prompted rebirth of the local flora in the form of thousands of flowers blossoming in a dazzling display of beauty. This last bit was the absolute evidence that the people needed to know the god's smiled down upon them: flowers were the domain of one of the gods, and their presence signified its approval.

At first the crowd surrounding Naomi had been wary, even fearful of her. This was understandable, as the power of witches was almost as legendary as their anger. Over time, the mob had come to realize the witch was passive, defeated. Sensing weakness, the crowd had undergone a metamorphosis. Now, instead of subdued and fearful, they were actively aggressive, many yelling and hurling insults at the witch, taunting her about anything from her oncoming mortality to claims of bestial parentage. The only reasons they didn't rip her apart then and there was due to the ring of stoic guards in formation around her, protecting her for the time being.

The crowd suddenly quieted as the doors to the Temple of the Trinity opened up, revealing an older, silver haired man adorned in the golden garments of his order. Aside from his robes, the only thing to truly distinguish him from anyone else was the image of the sun tattooed onto his forehead. The man seemed to emit an aura of nobility with an undertone of power emanating from his very being; this was not unusual in and of itself, as he was one of the chosen of the Sun God, and had been imbued with a portion of its power. What few whispers remained were silenced as the priest slowly made his way to the witch.

The silence that had overtaken the crowd was one of reverence and respect. This man, known to the villagers simply as the Father, had guided the village for over forty years through times of peace and times of strife. In many ways, he was what had truly kept the village together, and was the true power in the small town.

Glancing around, the priest slowly walked in a wide circle around Naomi. Clearing his throat, he spoke, "My children, it is so good that you have all gathered here today. I know how hard you all have been working in these recent times and strife, and it brings me great joy to see so many of you here today." When he said 'many', his gaze briefly hardened, as he took note of who _wasn__'__t _there. The look was gone in a split second.

"But we didn't come here to chat, now did we?" he said, chuckling, prompting some of the surrounding crowd to laugh as well. "No," he said, his tone shifting to a harsher degree. "We have gathered here today to cleanse this," he paused, pointing at Naomi, "abomination from the world."

"This creature came here as an agent of darkness seeking to sow chaos and destroy our lives and homes." His shout seemed to wake Naomi from her daze, as she slowly lifted her head, hair still covering her face. "She sought to undermine our faith, but we have held firm." he said, bringing his over his heart and clenching it.

He gestured to Naomi once more. "This abomination lived amongst us for years without any of us aware of her presence. We had taken her in as an act of kindness, inadvertently allowing her corruption to fester amongst us. Under our very noses, she was free to gather power in the shadows, to whisper lies in our ears while spreading chaos at every corner." Naomi hadn't shifted position, but close observers would note her shoulders shaking slightly. "Despite all these advantages, she was still dragged into the light, and only succeeding in strengthening our resolve."

The crowd practically hung onto every word of the priest's speech, engrossed in every word. The crowd was completely and utterly focused on the priest, down to every last man, woman, and child… except for two.

Standing on the outermost edge of the crowd in the shadow of the Trinity's Temple on the roof of a two story building were two human figures. Both were dressed in the same manner; long black hooded trench coats, black pants, and black boots with silver trim. The trench coats were the most notable piece of the outfits: they were both simply adorned with a two part combination of a long shiny silver zipper zipped up to the lower chest alongside two silver beads coming from the "neck".

The other notable aspect about the two was physical stature: one was a giant of a man, easily two heads above the next tallest man in the village while the other was comparably diminutive, being smaller than most of the women in the village.

The two stood silently, the shorter of the two observing the proceedings while leaning against a wall, arms crossed. The larger one was stood impassively, watching the event with evident interest. After taking in the frenzied tension building in the crowd as the priest passionately continued his impromptu sermon, they both spoke in unison.

"Disgusting/Fascinating."

They both looked at each other questioningly at one another at the same time before shorter of the two gestured to the taller one. "You first."

"You know full well what I mean, Zexion."

"Humor me, Lexaeus." Zexion took a moment while speaking to throw back his hood, revealing his trademark steel blue hair, his long bangs on his right side completely concealing his bright aqua blue eye and a good portion of his face.

Lexaeus stared at his friend for a long moment, contemplating his answer before responding. "These… people, act as if the taking of a life is something to be taken lightly-some even treat the upcoming horrific death of a young woman, guilty or not, as an excuse to celebrate." Lexaeus shook his head in disgust at the entire situation. In all honesty, it wasn't the upcoming execution that bothered him. If she was guilty and death was the only suitable punishment, then so be it. What bothered him was a combination of the lack of professionalism being used to handle the situation, allowing emotion to cloud their thoughts in the judgment and sentencing of a young woman, and the general excited, almost festive mood. The taking of a life, no matter who or what, should always be treated with the utmost respect. At least, that is what Lexaeus' memories of Aeleus told him.

"Quite festive, aren't they?" Zexion said, referencing the crowd; before the priest had arrived, several tables had been set up, covered in assorted foods and drinks. There was even a small stage set up for musicians. It was clear that some of the people had plans for a celebration after the burning.

The situation just felt… wrong to Lexaeus. Lexaeus knew Aeleus would have been disgusted with this situation. This wasn't how justice was supposed to be served, at least as Aeleus once knew. It was meant to protect the innocent and right the guilty, not be used as some excuse for festivities no matter the situation.

"What of you Zexion? What about this is "fascinating?" Lexaeus was genuinely curious. Despite all the years he had known Zexion, even before they had become nobodies and went by different names, he still didn't know everything that went on in the depths of his friend's mind.

"Oh, I just find it interesting how humans so easily show their true hearts in the face of adversity." Lexaeus raised an eyebrow in response to Zexion, prompting him to continue.

"Just one week ago, these people were at each other's throats, their "society" on the verge of collapse as they turned on one another; all because of a few troubles. Now, with one convenient scape goat, they are back to being "civilized" now that they can lay all their trouble at one girl's feet. They don't even realize the irony of their current actions, especially in regards to the girl's fate."

Lexaeus frowned, question forming in his mind, but was interrupted before he could voice it.

Lexaeus and Zexion had been tuning out the priest's passionate sermon, but that did not mean they were ignoring it. They both immediately picked up when he stopped and stood in front of Naomi, a lit torch in his right hand.

"My child, if there is anything you wish to say before your departure from this world, please say it now." He offered her a warm smile. "It is never too late to ask for forgiveness in the light of the gods, even with actions as despicable as yours."

The girl mumbled something unintelligibly, barely audible.

"What is it, child? Please speak up." The priest said, leaning closer.

Naomi mumbled something one again, unintelligible to even those closest to her.

"Child, do please speak more clearly. It is most difficult to hear you." This time, the barest hint of an annoyed note had entered his kindly tone. Despite this, he leaned in closer, nearly head to head with her.

She responded by leaning back and head butting him with an incredible amount of force. The priest practically flew backward, slamming into the ground, his nose broken and bleeding, fall anything but gentle. His robes quickly became uniquely stained with shades of dirt-brown and grass-green on top of gold.

The girl, once leaned over as much as her binding would allow in a defeated posture, stood back up to her full height. Weariness was still evident in her posture, but it was less than before, driven away by sheer willpower. Her hair once more fell to a more natural position framing her face, revealing a battered and bruised visage that the healing process had only just begun on. Despite this, her eyes were wide open, a newly arisen fire with more than a hint of a manic undertone burning in the green orbs.

"Didn't do it didn't do it I DIDN'T FUCKING DO IT!" she screamed, breaking the near silence that had overtaken the crowd with the priest's fall, prompting several villagers nearby flinched or gasped in fright at her outburst while the guards near her gaped at her in shock, but for entirely different reasons. They, under the personal directions of the renowned father, had personally led her interrogation, and by the time they made her confess of all her crimes, she was broken, laying limply in her cell, eyes glazed over and blank. She had taken longer than most to broke, but they were nothing if not thorough.

"I didn't burn your farms, I didn't bring plague, I didn't kill your babies, and I didn't fuck any fucking demons!" Naomi yelled, wildly looking from one person to another in the crowd, clearly remembering who had accused her.

"I just tried to help, and this is how you bastards treat me!" she half screamed, half sobbed. By now, the crowd and guards had recovered from their shock at her sudden outburst. Many now glared at her furiously, rage evident in their eyes. "Well, guess what!? You can all burn in h-"she tried to finish, but a guard shut her up by slapping her. While disoriented, another gagged her with a piece of cloth, shutting her up. She glared at her captors and struggled with her bonds, but couldn't do anything more.

Zexion listened to her rant, surprised at first, but then impressed; he, like the others, had thought her truly beaten. Evidently, he had greatly underestimated her strength. Sniffing the air, his neutral expression shifted to a smirk. Her soul burned brighter than anyone else here, barring Lexaeus and himself. That is not to mention the strength of her heart, which, although not as strong as the keybearers, was impressive none the less.

Lexaeus listened to her rant and, like Zexion, was impressed by her hidden strength. Unlike Zexion, however, he also noticed the enraged atmosphere of the soon to be angry mob. It would not be long before she died, if not by fire, then by being ripped to pieces by angry villagers.

The priest, now sitting back up, shot the girl a glare that honestly should have killed her. Grabbing the still lit torch, he, with the help of two other villagers, climbed back to his feet and began imping purposefully back to the girl, much to the mob's delight.

Lexaeus watched the priest and, in a moment of absolute clarity, knew what it was about this situation that had troubled him from the beginning more than anything else; he was watching an innocent die. Aeleus, in his life, had had a sixth sense about these things, and it was now screaming to Lexaeus what was wrong.

Lexaeus knew Aeleus would not have stood idly by while an injustice on this scale occurred; everything about him, his morals, his character, his heart, would have forced him to act. Lexaeus may have lost most of that which made him Aeleus (even Aeleus was not the same as he was near the end before he lost his heart), but Lexaeus had inherited just enough to know who he was.

"Zexion, tell me; is this woman truly a witch?" Lexaeus, despite the echoes of Aeleus' instincts, had to be sure. A witch, no matter who or where, was a dangerous force of darkness that could bring great destruction and chaos if left unchecked.

Zexion looked to him in mild surprise. "Why do you ask?"

"Just answer, quickly." Lexaeus glanced to the girl to see priest almost upon her. She struggled against her bonds, but it was useless. If he didn't act soon, then it would be too late.

Zexion followed Lexaeus' gaze before inhaling deeply through his nose, a silent look of contemplation passing over his face before he answered. "She has a lingering scent of magic, somewhat similar to Demyx; probably a latent affinity for elemental water magic. However, I can't sense any of the darkness found in the tainted hearts of all witches…" Zexion saw the look in Lexaeus' eyes and sighed in exasperation. "You're going to save her, aren't you?"

Lexaeus stared back at him, resolved to follow through on his choice.

"That goes against our ord-"he began, but sighed heavily instead. "Forget it; you're going to do it anyway. Go satisfy your hero fetish-just don't get hurt. Be back at the Castle at 1500 hours-We have to present our report." With his departing remark said, he left through a corridor of darkness

Lexaeus nodded even as Zexion disappeared through the dark portal. He had several hours to satisfy his memories' imperative. He was also confident Zexion would not betray his discretion in ignoring direct orders to not interfere in this world. Out of all the Organization members, Zexion was the only one he could truly count as a friend; everyone else, even the original apprentices of Ansem, were colleagues, comrades at best. Zexion, out of all of them, was the only one who had earned his trust and vice versa.

Lexaeus turned back to the scene of the soon-to-be averted execution and silently cursed. His conversation with Zexion had taken but a moment, but the priest had already reached the girl. The only reason she wasn't already on fire was that the priest had completely dropped his kindly, gentle old man act. Now, he was a snarling mass of rage. Instead of lighting her on fire, he chose to beat her senseless in a surprisingly fast flurry of movement. The girl whimpered with each slap, but her one still open eye that hadn't swelled shut still held the fierce gleam from earlier.

It was only a matter of time before the priest remembered the torch and set her aflame. He had to act, now. The people would likely ignore a simple declaration to stop, if they even heard him. It would require something more… dramatic.

Taking a few steps back, he assumed a classic runner's stance. All Organization members, due to the inherent strengths of their souls alongside the process of becoming a nobody, manifested unique powers such as Larxene's mastery over lightning or Axel's fire. Most members thought Lexaeus, while incredibly strong, to lack in the more supernatural aspect of his powers, and made up for his lack of elemental power by exercising the full potential of his physical strength. This simply wasn't the case.

Lexaeus did, indeed, possess strong elemental powers; if he was so inclined, he could explosively raise countless pillars of spikes from the ground, drag enemies into the earth itself, and even rend entire battlefields. His power, however, could also manifest in a less flashy, more subtle way that was somewhat similar to what certain schools of magic called reinforcement. Essentially, he could channel his power into raw superhuman physical strength and durability. This did not sound like much, but it enabled him to maintain a low profile on missions, survive damage that would kill most beings, and to act as if solid rock or concrete walls didn't exist. The only other Organization member that he suspected could consciously do this was Larxene and she only did so with her already insane, unnatural speed.

It is for this reason that, after a short running start followed by a powerful jump, the stone roof of the temple caved in as it abruptly decided it wasn't qualified to handle of the downward force of Lexaeus' jump.

He soared quickly through the air, a blur to any of the few who had bothered to look up at the time. He landed explosively in the central clearing of the crowd near Naomi, cratering the ground and staggering several nearby as residual shockwaves rolled over them.

Lexaeus slowly rose back to his feet from his crouched position, causing several people to gasp in fear as he came to his full, towering height. Everyone was frozen, staring at him in shock. Even the priest, normally supremely confident even in the most dire or strange of situations, had frozen; hand paused in mid-slap to the girl. Lexaeus was glad they weren't reacting yet; it would make things simpler.

He briefly focused, and suddenly his power, usually hidden away, exploded outward from his being in the form of a magenta aura. Several people recoiled in fright as they literally felt his power bearing down on them like a heavy weight pressing upon their chests, accompanied by a rush of air from his general direction. Satisfied that he had their attention, he pumped more power into his aura until the ovular shape of enveloping energy surrounding him had nearly tripled in size. The end result, Lexaeus was proud to say, was intimidating and scary as hell to the average human being.

Normally, he reserved manifesting his aura for much more serious fights in which he could actually die. While it was quite flashy and not suitable for most situations, it let him fight at his full potential by allowing him to enhance his strength and durability. Now, however, he used it not for its inherent tactical usefulness, but for the fact that it made him look terrifying to most people not used to the supernatural, and intimidating for the raw power required for it to supernatural veterans.

He knew diplomacy was not an option; these people had already tasted blood, and would not stop until they got the kill. That left intimidation and fear. Hopefully, he could extract the girl and get her to safety before any alterations could occur.

Without any further ado, Lexaeus took several massive strides toward the girl, shoving the priest roughly out of the way as he made his way. He frowned at the chains; he had been expecting rope. It was of no concern, however, as it would only take him a moment and the barest amount of strength to snap the iron chains. However, he glanced to the girl and saw something that gave him pause.

She was staring at him, her one still open eye wide open. In that gray orb, he saw something that took him a moment to place; hope. He realized with a start that, despite her early rage fueled ranting and defiance of the fate placed upon her, she had accepted that she was going to die. She was merely giving one last "fuck-you" to the people ending her.

Now, he had presented her with a third option, one where she could live. This realization had brought with it a rush of warmth to Lexaeus that he had difficulty identifying, yet it felt so real and…good. It was only a phantasm of emotion, Lexaeus knew, but he would take it.

Lexaeus felt something behind him, and reacted. He swung around, arm out, and close lined a man who had been sneaking up on him. His arm caught the foolish man and sent him flying a good twenty feet. He once again cursed silently as he realized he had run out of time. The mob, including the priest, had recovered and, while still fearful, were teetering towards the fight side of the fight-or-flight response.

The priest flinched at the sickening crack the man made as he hit the ground, but righteous fury overwhelmed whatever fear he had. "This is a crowning moment, a victory over darkness in the name of the Trinity. How dare you defile this sacred event! What do you have to say for yourself?" The priest was practically shaking with rage, upset that a human, obviously some disciple of another order, would interrupt a witch's burning. For someone, no matter whom they were or who they represented, was a sacrilege of the highest caliber.

Lexaeus looked at the priest, a phantasm of a memories rage rising in his mind. He recognized an insane zealot when he saw one. Zealots, in and of themselves, were not inherently evil; however, if not kept in check by more reasonable minds, they could descend into vile depths just as bad as those with the darkest of hearts all the while convincing themselves that they were in the right. This man could probably justify a child's rape and subsequent murder as the will of the gods and see nothing wrong with it.

He unconsciously clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white. The pressure would have been enough to grind granite into dust. Despite his anger at what he realized was the cause of the current injustice he was averting, he kept calm and kept aware of his surroundings. The single, foolhardy man who had approached the glowing giant and been swatted aside had put a sense of caution into the crowd, and most, except a few guards circling the priest, had backed off.

Lexaeus knew the priest could be set off by virtually anything right now. Even if he was silent, things would quickly escalate. In a moment of decision, Lexaeus decided to throw caution to the wind.

"Your point is?" he calmly stated. He knew what would happen next, but in all honesty couldn't find it within himself. If anything, he was looking forward to it. It would give him an outlet for the anger his memories told him he should have.

The priest looked at him, a blank expression on his face for a moment before he practically exploded. For a moment, he couldn't seem to do anything but scream incoherently and flailing his arms in Lexaeus' general direction. Finally, he managed to sputter out a simple order. "Kill him! The gods demand his sacrilege be punished!" Several of the guards and men in the crowd glanced around uncertainly before slowly approaching Lexaeus.

Lexaeus let a small smirk appear on his face as he got his wish. His body shifted slightly as he readied for the oncoming fight; it was almost imperceptible to all but the most trained eyes. However, it was needed for Lexaeus to shift from "relaxed" to battle ready. He considered summoning his weapon, but decided against it; a quick glance told him these were likely base-line humans with no supernatural enhancements. Sky Splitter, his massive axe-sword, would be severe overkill in this situation.

Eight of the guards slowly circled him, alongside four of the braver villagers. The guards carefully hung back, clearly intending to let the villagers test him before moving in themselves. At first, they appeared afraid of Lexaeus, but one mentioned that this world's supposed "divinity" was on their sides. Courage restored, they completely circled Lexaeus, readying their weapons.

Lexaeus watched all of this with a careful eye noting their positions and levels of threat. He never once shifted as they prepared to attack.

The girl stared at the building confrontation with her one, good eye wide open. She struggled with her bonds, but couldn't make much head way on the chains. She tried to spit out the cloth gag, but it was tied on tightly.

The priest stared with wide, manic eyes. First, this abominable heretic would be ripped apart, and the witch would be burned. The gods would smile upon them for doing their holy duty, and all would soon be right.

The first to attack Lexaeus was not the biggest and strongest of the guards, the most skilled, or even the most experienced. No, the first to attack was a young farm boy of fifteen years of age. Perhaps he felt he had something to prove. Perhaps he was trying to impress a girl. Perhaps he was a zealous idiot. Regardless, the result was the same; Lexaeus side-stepped his lunge and delivered a sharp, measured blow to the back of his head, rendering him unconscious before he hit the ground. Despite his spectacular failure, the others took it as the signal to attack.

Two of the villagers came at him from the left. He punched one in the gut, doubling him over before he introduced the man's face to his knee, knocking him out instantly. Lexaeus grabbed the other by the shirt and tossed the man at another, knocking the last villager down.

Lexaeus calmly glanced at the five guards in front of him and carefully shot his fist out to the side, knocking the last villager out as he rose back to his feet. He absently noted that was the last somewhat innocent civilian in the immediate confrontation.

The five guards stared at Lexaeus, mildly fearful and uncertain. The giant in front of them had just effortlessly knocked out four grown men. However, the men were mere villagers, not soldiers. They had probably been in nothing more than friendly brawls, never the less in a fight with what appeared to be a glowing supernatural giant. The guards, however, had been trained by professionals in the King's army. The shock value of the giant's aura was wasted on them, as they had seen similar things around supernatural beings in the past; shocking, yes, but much less impressive after the twelfth time.

They kept thinking this up until Lexaeus shot forward and punched the guard closest to him with enough force to cave his chest in and send him flying twenty feet.

Lexaeus, however, wasn't done. Turning to the nearest one, he kicked his leg out, shattering the guard's kneecap. Cursing in pain, the guard to fell to his knees as his leg gave out. To give him credit, he was able to fight through the pain almost in time to dodge Lexaeus massive fist grabbing for his neck. However, almost didn't keep him from lifting off of the ground or his neck from snapping in a sudden twist.

Naomi, for her part, watched Lexaeus rip into the guards with awe. He made beating the village's, most dangerous, deadly men look pathetically easy. In any other situation, she would have been very interesting in finding out where his clearly supernatural strength came from. Humans, in her experience, unless assisted by outside sources, couldn't perform the blatant feats of power the man was displaying. So far as she could tell, every last iota of power the giant had displayed came from _him_, no one else.

_Maybe__…__ Maybe if I had had this strength, I could have avoided this entire mess._

Naomi Evans was, as many of the town had accused her of, deeply intertwined with magic. Ever since she was a small child, she had practiced, and studied it. Her first memory was of her giggling in delight while her mother made a tiny seed grow into a beautiful rose. As an adolescent, she had used it keep her mother's garden alive in the dry season and, later in life, to ease her grandmother's pain as she faded away from life. To her, magic, or at least the variety she practiced, was nearly sacred. Magic, in short, was her life; it flowed in her veins, and influenced every aspect of her life and even beyond.

In the eyes of the village, her connection to the green nature magic she practiced might as well have made her an abomination because her powers did not come from the local ethereal beings that she seriously doubted were actual gods. Despite local prejudices, she was far from being a witch; to be a witch, one had to make a pact with the vilest of darkness, to let its corrupting taint deep into one's heart in exchange for the power it could provide. The magic Naomi practiced, on the other hand, was a form of green mana based magic that focused on attuning oneself to the natural energies of Nature and gently tapping into them for various spells. It wasn't as flashy as what the darkness could provide or like the raw power of the "miracles" the church provided, but it was rather more subtle, being a gentle nudge towards the desired effect instead of the brutal shove of other forms of magic.

A general requirement for practitioners of green magic was sensitivity to mystical energies. This sensitivity extended to people as well. Most people didn't really give off that much energy, and thus their auras were dim, barely distinguishable. She herself was brighter than most due to her routine interaction with nature's energies. The giant, by comparison, was a bonfire to the average sea of candles of everyone else. His power was almost a physical, tangible thing drifting off of him, and it nearly overwhelmed her senses.

It is only because of her extensive talent in divining mystical energies that she noticed a strange build up off to her side. This, of course, prompted her to tear her gaze from the ongoing confrontation (_wait, people couldn__'__t bend like that, could they?), _to her side, and her blood ran cold.

The priest had dropped his torch on the edge of the wood pile. A mild part of her panicked at this, especially as the wood started to light up, but that part was submerged in a larger wave of panic. What had her undivided attention was the red jewel-like amulet the priest now held out in both hands. She recognized it as a sign of his station, a gift given to him by a supposedly divine messenger. She could sense a massive amount of energy building within the amulet as the priest called upon the "gods" to grant him strength, resulting in it giving off an ominous red glow. The energy suddenly condensed to a single point on the amulet, and she knew what was happening.

Finally spitting out the gag, she barely had time to shout, "Behind you!" before a blinding wave of light shot forward.

"Behind you!"

Lexaeus, for his part, did not think; he reacted.

Flaring his power, he attempted to dodge to the side, his opponent forgotten, just as a massive wave of energy erupted from the priest's amulet. Despite his impressive leap, he failed to clear the blast radius. For a moment, all he felt was searing heat, then excruciating pain before darkness overtook him.

The priest smiled grimly as he surveyed the scene.

The town square, where once made up of cobblestone, was destroyed. The ground had been gouged out in a huge wave extending directly from him, the molten cobblestone slowly cooling in the brisk air from its molten state. This devastation extended out to the edge of the village square, and had caused some of the buildings on the other side to catch fire, with one even having partially collapsed.

He figured fortune was on his side, for most of his flock had long since abandoned the area before the blast reached them, rendering most of them unharmed. He frowned as he noted the remaining guard missing. He sighed as he realized they must have been incinerated alongside the giant. It would difficult to replace them; it was so rare to find people with the training, faith, loyalty, and tendency to not ask questions all rolled into one package. At least the giant was gone; another heretical evil cleansed from the world.

_Now, just to finish off the witch and we can all get on with our lives in the light and approval of the gods._

Naomi stared at the devastation and was shocked. She knew the "Sun God", like all of the supposed "gods", granted power to his disciples, but she didn't know it was this powerful.

She also realized with a sinking feeling that she was going to die. She realized she was going to die before, but that had brought with it a certain sense of… peace, if that was the correct word. It was a sense of finality that had put her into a state of mind that had let her scream in defiance of fate instead of meekly accepting it.

Now, though, hope had been ignited within her soul with the giant's arrival. She actually had had a chance of survival. She could have gone on to see more of the world, see the sights her mother had always spoke of. Then the giant had gone and died.

_It__…__ hurts. Damn it, why does it have to hurt now? _

Hope had begun to burn so brightly in her soul. She felt as if the dark cloud of despair that had hung over her senses over the past few days had been lifted, and she could see the sun finally once more... Now, all that hope, all that glorious light, so recently restored was dashed, gone. Unbidden, her eyes began to water, but fell short of actual tears. She would not allow weakness to show, not even as the fire slowly began to consume her.

She towards the priest, intending to spit at his smiling face even as the growing fire began to bite at her dress, but was cut short when the sound of falling rubble reached her ears.

She looked to the sound just as the world exploded.

Darkness enveloped Lexaeus, both within and without. He felt as if he was drifting in an endless void, devoid of al sensation, his only companions the mere echoes of shadows.

_This__…__ This must be the darkness to which all nobodies come when defeated._

He sighed, at least mentally. No sound existed within the void.

_I wonder how long it will be before I go insane. It is of no matter now, I suppose. I had hoped to see the end it to the end of the Organization__'__s mission. I hope I at least made a difference._

He then realized his eyes were closed. To rectify this, he opened them.

Pain was the first sensation Lexaeus was able to discern. His entire body, from his bones to every last muscle, was on fire. He had not hurt this much since he had made the unfortunate decision to spar with Saix in the full light of the incomplete Kingdom Hearts.

The second sensation he regained was that of sight. He appeared to be in the collapsed ruin of a once simple, if comfortable, house. The inside was utterly decimated, rubble and remains of furniture strewn around chaotically. Even as he watched, a large section of the roof collapsed inward, throwing up a large cloud of dust.

It took him a moment to remember what had happened. He had been fighting the guards, the girl's warning… and then what felt suspiciously like a disturbingly powerful energy wave slammed into his back.

Several realizations came to Lexaeus in the next few moments.

One; he was impressed. It was odd to think of something that had hurt him, but he couldn't help it. The sheer power of it was impressive enough, but to have hurt him despite his natural resilience and the protection of the oddly durable Organization standard issue uniform was something to be commended.

Two; he had been arrogant. Reflecting on it, he could openly admit it, at least to himself. He could have ended the entire "fight" immediately. It would have been so simple to pull his opponents into the earth, all at once, and let them be crushed or suffocate there, whichever would be more convenient. Instead, he had chosen to draw the fight out, toying with his opponents. He hadn't thought they posed a threat, and nothing in Zexion or his survey of the region had indicated any major threats (this troubled him, and it meant he would have to amend the report when he returned to the Castle). He had sought to incite fear and awe in the people here despite there being little to no reason for it whatsoever.

Three; the girl was burning. Through the large, convenient hole in the wall, he could see the woodpile around her had caught on fire. It was only a matter of time before the flames consumed her.

_I have to end this. __**NOW.**_

Groaning, he fought through the pain racing through his body and stood up, incidentally brushing several hundred pounds of debris that had fallen on him. He held out his hand, palm downward, and focused for a moment as he called upon his weapon. Immediately, a low rumbling shook the earth as right before the floorboards suddenly ruptured outward, his axe-sword Skysplitter bursting forth from the ground in a cackle of magenta energy. He easily gripped the long blue handle and hefted it atop his shoulders, carrying the insanely heavy weapon effortlessly.

Closing his eyes, he mentally reached out to his power. It always waited within, coiled tightly, waiting to be unleashed at a moment's notice. Seconds later, a low rumbling filled the earth as his power manifested itself. The air around him cackled with glowing arcs of magenta energy as his aura, long subdued, burst into life around him with an exploding corona of energy, incidentally causing the rest of the building to collapse around him in a rather impressive boom.

He crouched before rocketing into the air above the village, holding position above the town square utilizing the limited levitation ability innate to all upper tier Organization members. Hovering, he surveyed the ground beneath him; his rather dramatic entrance had finally broken the crowd. Most fled, although a few brave souls lingered on the outermost edges of the town square typically hidden behind whatever available cover there was to be found.

The priest, Lexaeus noted to a mild sense of amusement, looked panicked. He was repeating some chant in a language Lexaeus didn't recognize. It took him a moment to realize the priest was casting some sort of spell. Recognizing the oncoming danger, he charged.

Lexaeus flung himself at the priest with all of his might, his aura taking on a very real, physical aspect as it coalesced as a glowing edge on Skyspitter. The priest finished calling upon the god's power just as Lexaeus charged, unleashing a huge, golden arc energy that rushed to meet Lexaeus' charge in midair.

The energy wave impacted against his shield-like aura in a mad clash of opposing energies. The air around the two opposing forces cackled with in insane amount of power, arcs of golden and magenta electricity shooting off wildly in every direction. The heat of the attack was so great that, had he not been wearing the heat resistant (and to just about everything else for that matter) Organization coat, he was certain that, extreme durability or not, he would have had third degree burns over his entire body. Even with the arcane protection of the uniform, he could practically feel his skin burning, even with his aura and Skysplitter between himself and the blast.

Lexaeus gritted his teeth in pain, both spiritual and physical, as he pushed against the blast with everything he had. Pulses of energy flooded into his magenta aura, strengthening it tremendously, as he drew upon the raw power of his soul to reinforce Skysplitter's glowing edge against the attack. It felt as if his entire body, down to every last muscle and bone, was stressed and taunt, pushed to the absolute max. Absently, he noted the primal yell he had distantly heard in the background over the cackle of opposing energies and rushing wind was, in fact, bellowing from his own lungs.

For one long, eternal moment, Lexaeus' hung there, suspended in a clash of titanic energies, not making any progress whatsoever in breaking through the attack. Then, the moment ended and Lexaeus broke through, shattering the priest's attack into thousands of falling shards of golden light in a dazzling display of light.

Lexaeus' attack, on the other hand, most definitely did not fade. He had drawn a huge amount of his own power into his bid to oppose the wave of golden energy. Without said energy wave to oppose it, his attack had nowhere to go but forward. He belatedly realized he could control his attack for maybe half a second before he lost control. Considering this, he didn't bother. Instead, he used what limited control he still had to steer the attack in what he thought was a currently uninhabited section of the village. It was only a few degrees, but Lexaeus could only pray it would be enough to spare any innocents.

Lexaeus attack, blinding in its intensity, went forward in a massive, vertical slash of magenta energy, obliterating everything in its path. Houses collapsed inward as they were sliced in half, resulting in dozens of clouds of dust being thrown up into the air. Ancient oaks thundered to the ground, in some cases over two hundred years of history and life ended in an instant as separate tree halves split apart. Even the earth itself was not spared; the ground was gouged out in nearly a five foot wide crevice, so deep as to swallow the light without revealing the bottom. The attack, after rampaging through and destroying a good portion of the village and the fields outside of town, finally came to a stop nearly a mile outside of town in an overgrown pasture

Lexaeus slowly drifted back to the ground, aura fading ever so slightly, leaning on Skysplitter for support, nearly bent over as he panted, rivulets of sweat pouring down his face.

_That__…__ that was foolish. I invested far too much in a single attack. A little more and__…_

He cut off the thought. It would do no good to obsess and, besides, he had other matters to attend to.

Standing back up to his full height, Lexaeus glared at the scene before him; the priest was still alive. His attack, in his earlier redirection, had missed the priest by a foot. The priest had fallen, and was numbly staring at the gaping crevice less than a foot away from him stretching across the entirety of the town square and beyond.

Lexaeus narrowed his eyes at the priest before tensing up and bringing his foot down in a powerful stomp. This prompted the earth beneath the priest to erupt upward in a circular stone pillar, throwing the shocked priest high up into the air. Lexaeus clenched his fist in front of his chest and quickly brought it down in front of him. A tall, slender stone spike erupted from the ground, impaling the priest with a sickening crunch and silencing the priest forever more.

Lexaeus dismissed his weapon, letting it fade back into the Earth. There was no one left in village so far as he could sense but himself and the girl. The villagers would probably come trickling back in soon because survival wasn't possible for long without the safety and supplies of the village.

He walked over to the girl, absently kicking a burning log out of the way. He let out a sigh of relief in seeing the girl okay; it would have been… horrible, if he had to choose a word, for her to die when so close to safety. He took hold of the chains binding her, examining them for a moment. Finding no easy way to unlock hem, he simply broke the chains, snapping them like he would a twig.

She fell forward before he could catch her, coming down to one knee before catching herself. Slowly rising back to her feet, she looked around, dazed and blinking rapidly. She looked down at her bruised yet now free hands as if she couldn't believe it. She looked up at him with an expression he couldn't quite identify before closing the distance between them in a split second and enveloped him in a bone crushing hug.

For a few moments, she could only bury her head in the folds of his shirt, sobbing quietly. He didn't quite know what to make of this; physical contact amongst Organization members outside of sparring was kept to a minimum, and none of Aeleus' memories had prepared him for this. In the end, he settled for awkwardly patting her on the shoulder as she shook, crying softly. Finally, her sobs broke down into a few sniffles and she looked up at him with red, teary eyes. She mouthed a few words, but nothing came out. A few moments later, she finally managed to half whisper, half sob, "Why?"

A thousand answers flashed through Lexaeus' mind at that moment. He had saved her because it wasn't her time. He saved her because he couldn't bare an injustice occurring right in front of him. He saved her to satisfy the memories of a dead man's moral imperatives despite only intellectually understanding that he should even if true emotions were lost to him. In the end, he decided on the simplest of all. "It was the right thing to do."

Naomi stared at the man in front of her, not believing her ears. Her stare continued on in bewilderment for a moment before it underwent a complete turn, switching from confusion to suspicious in an instant. "That's it? That's the reason you destroyed half the village, obliterated the militia-which wasn't much in the first place, but still- and killed the most powerful man in the region? Just to save me, for absolutely nothing in return?" A sudden pain from her hand caused her to flinch in pain. She caught herself to gripping the waist of her tattered, blue dress in an iron grip, her knuckles white from the pressure. She forcefully exhaled, relaxing her hand.

She took a few deep breaths to calm herself before looking back to the giant's impassive face, absently noting a very mild note of confusion passing through his impassive facade. This just made her more confused; in her experience, there was no such thing as "true" generosity. Goods, money, power, sex, it didn't matter; everyone wanted something. Most of the time it wasn't even an equivalent exchange (no matter what the damned alchemist may say).

She had done some questionable things in her twenty-seven years of life to survive in the world. She had taken every opportunity to better herself while billing the cost to others. She wasn't proud of what she had done to survive in the world. She knew she wasn't, and probably wouldn't ever be a paragon of virtue, but that didn't bother her.

She had lived a, if not comfortable, bearable life on the outskirts of the village as an herbalist, using the land's abundant native herbs to create traditional healing salves and elixirs taught to her by her mother (as well as a few benevolent nature spirits) for sale to anyone with the money.

Then the drought had come and everything had gone to hell. Crops failed, trade stopped, disease spread rampantly, supplies stores were compromised, and life in general got worse. People began to get desperate. They turned against each other. Longtime friends began sharpening daggers for each other's' backs. Even families started to erode.

Naomi had known it would only get worse. She'd seen it happen in bigger cities, and it would happen here as well, if on a smaller scale.

_I couldn__'__t let it happen. Not again._

That is why she broke her golden rule and did something completely and totally selfless.

At the end of it all, the rains had returned and restored life to the land and her life span had been cut in half.

_To repay me, I get the royal treatment; free kidnapping, beating, brutal interrogation, delightful rape, and a wonderful departure via burning to death at the stake to amuse a crowd while proving a point._

She may have been just left the tiniest bit bitter and cynical after the ordeal. Considering all of that, she was suspicious of anyone selflessly "rescuing her.

_It sure as hell didn__'__t work for me. Who else would be crazy enough to do the same?_

Then again, it could be another crazy person like her. If that was the case, she had just been monumentally rude to the man who was not only her rescuer, but was also strong enough to rip her in half.

Voice softer and gentler from her earlier accusations, she stepped back and spoke. " I'm sorry if I sound like an ungrateful bitch. I don't mean to. But, I have to ask; is it really true? You just went out of your way to save me with nothing to gain in return?"

Lexaeus was proud, or at least as much as he could say without a true heart to embrace emotion, to say, "Yes."

All Naomi could respond with was a short, simple, "Huh." Maybe there really was some good left in the world after all.

_Or I could just be crazy and this could all be one last very vivid hallucination before I die a fiery, painful death. Either way._

"I just want to be clear. I wanted to say… thank you. You saved my life from these bastards and I," her voice seemed to catch for a moment, "I don't think I can ever repay that Mr.-um, what was your name?" She felt a little awkward. She had just spent the past few momens yelling at him, and it hadn't even occurred to her to ask him his name.

Picking up on her awkwardness, Lexaeus smirked. "My name is Lexaeus, and you are?"

Naomi repeated his name to herself, tasting it. It was weird, certainly, but definitely unique." My name's Naomi.

A few awkward moments passed between the two of them after that. Neither really had anything to say that immediately came to mind. Shifting her weight from foot to foot, Naomi finally broke the silence. "So, what now?"

Lexaeus took a moment to think on the question, as it deserved consideration. Lexaeus could admit, at least to himself, that he hadn't thought this far ahead. This situation had required immediate action, not fore-planning. He supposed there were a few obvious things to start with. "Do you have anywhere to go? Anywhere you can find sanctuary?"

Naomi sighed as she thought it over. Her home on the outskirts of town definitely wasn't a possibility. Even if it hadn't been burned down alongside all of her possessions (even her mother's grimoire, and that brought a whole other type of hurt to her heart that she refused to deal with right now), a lynch mob would eventually come for her. Soon news of what had happened here would spread like wildfire throughout the entire region alongside kill on sight orders to every last constable. She'd be lucky to find sanctuary on another continent, and that was a huge if.

All in all, it made for an incredibly depressing situation and required a simplistic answer to Lexaeus question. "No." Naomi's voice rang with a tone of finality and a sense of desperation and rising hysteria. She truly had nowhere to go, nowhere safe. It made her want to scream.

Lexaeus nodded in confirmation; both to her and himself. "I thought as much." She looked even more downcast at this, but looked back up in surprise when he continued. "There is another option." He gestured to the side, and a corridor of darkness manifested into existence. He stepped past Naomi to stand next to the portal.

Naomi, for her part, was surprised to find herself only surprised by the sudden appearance of an ovular shaped mass of swirling darkness. She might have been rendered numb by her narrow survival today. Perhaps it was everything that had happened in the past week, from being abducted from her home in the dark of night to nearly burning alive to seeing an attack with enough power to cut a village in half. Maybe she was just tired and couldn't find it within herself to care that much.

Regardless, the result was her blinking before yawning at the sight of the portal. She really was tired.

Lexaeus took her silence (absently raising an eyebrow at her lack of a reaction to the corridor's appearance) as his cue to explain. "This is a corridor of darkness. It enables travel between worlds."

At this, Naomi's eyes did bugg out considerably. She had heard legends of travel between worlds (although they were generally referred to as planes), who hadn't, but that was just it; legends. At best, they were fantastic tales told to children as bedtime stories. If what Lexaeus said was true, the possibilities were very… interesting.

"I offer you a chance to escape the grasp of this world and to start your life anew on another world. It will not be easy, and you will likely face many hardships, but it is still a chance." Lexaeus chose not to mention the danger posed by the darkness to one one's heart inherent in using corridors of darkness. It would be a difficult enough decision as it was to abandon everything she knew for the unknown. Besides, it was a short trip, and she was strong.

She stared at Lexaeus… and stared… and stared some more. It was one thing to suspect and assume the offer. It was another thing entirely to actually hear it.

A complex storm of emotion ran through her in that moment; excitement at the prospect at living a childhood fantasy, fear of the unknown, apprehension at the thought of leaving, and anger at Fate for pushing her this far. She was initially suspicious of Lexaeus and what he may be planning, suspicious that he could be lying, but squashed it instantly. If he wanted to hurt her, he very well could have.

She let out a long sigh. "I don't really have much of a choice, do I?" She could stay and die, or venture into the unknown. There were no other options.

"You're wrong. You always have a choice. Never forget that." Lexaeus said with conviction. Somebodies, nobodies-it didn't matter. There was always a choice. Aeleus had made his decision to help Xehanort and the others in their experiments. Lexaeus had made his decision to stay true to his memories of Aeleus even when other members in the Organization had abandoned all pretenses of emotion and their previous selves.

Naomi looked up at that, surprised. That surprise soon transformed into a small smile that she graced Lexaeus with. Naomi stepped up to the portal, hesitating a moment before stepping through. Lexaeus followed through, and the dark portal closed behind them, leaving no trace of their departure.

Lexaeus stepped out of the corridor of darkness into the Grey Areas of the Castle that Never Was or, more informally, the Castle as most Organization members referred to it as. The Gray Area was, for all intents and purposes, a lounge for the high ranking Organization members to relax before or after a mission. There honestly wasn't anything special about the room; originally it had simply been one of the many empty storage rooms in the Castle, only notable for the pleasing view of the neon city in the distance and the swirling clouds in the everlasting darkness of the world. Something about the room, however, caused the Organization to congregate in it. At first it had not been much, just one or two members stopping by and chatting for a bit, but that all changed when Luxord had decided to start hosting his weekly poker games there. Chairs and tables were added, TV screens were added, and even a few fully equipped mini-fridges were added, and thus it officially became the de-facto lounge for the top tiers of Organization.

Lexaeus liked to come to the Gray Area not only to relax after a mission's ordeals, but also to listen. He enjoyed, if that is the right term, listening and just being in the presence of other Organization members. Something about their presence, whether it was Demyx's antics, Axel's sarcasm, or even, god help him, Larxene's unique combination of childishness and sadism, helped bring back memories of camaraderie and peace from Aeleus' life in Radiant Garden. Sometimes, he even thought he could feel phantom pangs of emotion, although that was surely his imagination.

_I wonder if that is why the others gather here as well; to feel echoes of hearts we no longer have._

A quick glance around the room revealed the presence of three other members in the room, plus one interesting fact. Larxene sat lounged out on a couch, reading an issue of Blade Weekly, absently spinning one of her knives in her free hand. Axel sat across directly across from her, hands behind his head, feet propped up on the table between then and gazing at the ceiling, looking bored out of his mind. Demyx sat at the opposite end of the room, playing his sitar. The song he was playing was oddly relaxing and soothing, not at all like the excited, lively tones of the music he generally preferred.

Demyx's choice of song puzzled Lexaeus for a moment until he remembered Larxene's presence. She had made it abundantly clear in the past that she despised Demyx's normal taste in music. She had probably threatened to stab him or something if he didn't play something else. A quick glance at the wall behind Demyx revealed on of Larxene's signature knives embedded in the wall a few inches to the left of where his head would be, confirming his theory.

The "interesting fact" was the condition of the room; spread around at irregular intervals, embedded in everything from the walls to the seat cushions, were jagged pieced of black metal of a suspicious shape similar to that of shuriken. Even the reinforced windows of the room, built to withstand a concentrated explosive strike, were not spared. One was completely blown out, letting in a breeze, while the others were cracked, studded with yet more shuriken. One wall had a large indentation that was suspiciously human shaped.

Lexaeus noted with fascination that, despite the rather obvious battle damage, the three currently resident members were either unaware of the state of the room or were actively ignoring it.

Choosing a seat next and Axel and across from Larxene, he wearily sunk into the cushion's embrace, carefully flipping the shuriken ridden seat over beforehand. Axel tore his gaze from the ceiling and looked to Lexaeus, seemingly glad for the distraction.

"Hey Lex, what's-whoa, what happened to you?" Axe said, noticing Lexaeus' bruises and singed uniform.

Larxene took notice as well, looking up from her magazine, tilting her head slightly as she studied Lexaeus a moment before smirking. "Let me guess: got into a fight with a bus and lost?"

Lexaeus glanced at the state of her attire, and noted it looked similarly damaged. "I could ask the same of you."

Axel raised an eyebrow before smirking and sitting up. "A story for a story then? I'm game."

Larxene considered her magazine and the fascinating article on interrogation techniques throughout history or the potentially interesting story. Humming thoughtfully, she snapped her magazine shut and shifted position, pushing herself up. Releasing a small laugh that may or may not have been a giggle, she said, "Why not?"

Lexaeus sighed, and rubbed his brow. "My story is not as interesting as you would think."

"Wanna hear it anyway." Axel said.

Larxene just shrugged. "Boring, interesting- I don't really care. It has to be better than just sitting here. Although…" She trailed off, looking back to the magazine longingly.

Axel rubbed his eyes in clear exasperation. "Really, Larxene? You've been reading that same article for the past fifteen minutes, giggling occasionally. It's getting kind of creepy."

"C'mon Axel, I can't help it. It really speaks to me." Larxene mock-whined.

"You do realize all that article talks about is cold blooded torture, right?"

Larxene hugged herself and mustered one of the most cutesy, disturbing voices Lexaeus had ever heard. "Makes me feel all warm inside."

_If I never hear that voice again, I will die a happy man._

Axel apparently shared Lexaeus sentiment, as a look of horror had etched itself onto his face. "Larxene, please, PLEASE, never use that voice again."

Larxene pouted, but switched back to a smile in a split second. "No." She sang back in the exact same cutesy voice.

Lexaeus coughed, covering up his shiver whilst simultaneously gathering their attention. Larxene and Axel's banter was always entertaining, but he actually interested in what had happened here.

"As I was saying, "Lexaeus began. "I stayed behind on X432 to finish up some business while Zexion reported back." X432 was the numerical designation of the world he and Zexion's mission had been on. Organization XIII generally gave worlds they deemed of little importance beyond a basic survey, instead of a full name like Hollow Bastion.

"Find anything good on the world? Larxene interrupted, curious. New worlds only recently connected to the Darkness tended to be completely random. They could be nothing more than an endless boring desert with nothing of note, or could be home to a bustling metropolis with all sorts of fun things to do and blow up.

Lexaeus stopped, thinking back to the world. The world, to be honest, wasn't that unique; lots of plains, lots of forest. The societies were barely developed enough to pose a threat, and the cultures weren't that interesting. The survey had honestly been boring up until they had found the village in the midst of a celebratory execution. The only thing really of note were a trio of powerful beings that Zexion seemed to think were similar in power to the ones on Olympus; although, if they could really grant their followers the power that the priest had displayed, they deserved further study. "We might have found a new pantheon of gods."

Larxene blinked and sat back, bored once more. Gesturing dismissively, she said, "Go on."

"Before I could leave, I was attacked by one of the priests from the villages. He was stronger than I expected, and used some form of magic I was unprepared for. I eventually beat him after taking a few hits, and returned." Lexaeus didn't bother to mention Naomi or why the priest attacked him in the first place. Mentioning either would only needlessly complicate the situation, and he hadn't exactly been obeying orders to remain unseen on the world when he rescued Naomi.

Thinking of Naomi brought him back to their goodbye. He would like to say it was meaningful and lasting, but it wasn't. He had simply brought her to a safe world (well, as safe a world as one could be when connected to the darkness) where she could make a new start, handed her a bag of the local currency, and directed her to a group he knew would help her adjust. Their departure wasn't overly dramatic, and, after a short escort to ensure her safe arrival at the group's followed by a short goodbye alongside a wish of luck he had left, disappearing in a corridor of darkness.

"And," Axel said, gesturing for him to say more.

Both Larxene and Axel stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to continue. When he wasn't forthcoming, Axel sighed. "Man, you have got to work on your story telling skills. I can't even begin to describe how disappointing that was."

"I can." Larxene popped in cheerfully. Looking Lexaeus dead in the eye, she said, "It sucked. It was so bad that we all died a little inside from listening to it. Thank you very much."

Lexaeus shrugged. He wasn't insulted, and that was their respective opinions. He was always more of a listener anyway.

"Still, a deal's a deal." Axel said. He suddenly grinned. "Maybe it's not too late for ya, Lex. Sit back and learn."

"Let me tell you a story of drama, plot, and intrigue. A story of experiments gone wrong, flying heartless the size of skyscrapers, an ancient prophecy, and the discovery of a long lost holy sword right here in the World that Never was, and a surprise attack by cybernetic ninjas."

"Those guys were fun. Haven't had anybody that can keep up with me in a while. Too bad they died so easily." Larxene piped in, still reading her magazine with a hint of what may have been sadness at the end.

Axel glared at Larxene, but she only smiled sweetly in response. "Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, an attack by cybernetic ninjas using the distraction that a massive mechanical dragon ridden by a one eyed werewolf can provide.

Lexaeus rubbed his chin in thought; while ridiculous sounding, it sound like some of the weird crap that occasionally occurred at the Castle. It also explained the massive mechanical dragon corpse he had passed on the way in, as well as the damage around the castle. Axel noted the look in his eye and smirked.

"Sounds good, doesn't it?"

"I will admit I am intrigued." Lexaeus said.

"Great. See, this is how you tell a story- with details. Hard to believe it only happened a few hours ago."

"Tell me about it." Demyx suddenly said, surprising Lexaeus. He had been silent thus far. "One minute I'm in bed, getting my zs. The next everything is exploding, guys in funky black armor are running around everywhere, a giant dragon is fighting like four bigger heartless and winning, and then all my music notes got set on fire. "Demyx whined, particularly at the last part. "Next thing I know, I black out and wake up surrounded by bodies. Not cool at all."

"Thank you, Demyx." Axel said, stressing the name. "Anyway, before you get any more spoilers, it all started out like this…"

Whatever Axel was going to say was forever cut off as Zexion strode into the room.

"Good, you're all here. The Superior has ordered a mandatory meeting in the Round Room."

Axel was the first to respond to Zexion's sudden appearance. He effortlessly switched from "relax" mode to "work" mode. The changes were subtle, but it was there.

Hands in his pockets, Axel stood up, facing Zexion. "Any idea why? We aren't scheduled for another meeting until next week."

Zexion shook his head. " I heard that the Xemnas found our thirteenth member. I suppose we are going to welcome him or her.

Axel nodded and looked to the rising Lexaeus. "We'll have to have that story another time," he said, patting Lexaeus on the shoulder before leaving in a corridor of darkness.

Larxene sat her magazine on the table before standing up and stretching, releasing several audible creaks. "New person, huh? As long as I don't have to baby-sit." She too, vanished in a corridor of darkness.

Demyx looked at his sitar, resigned. "Aww, and I was just getting a good rhythm going. Do we really have to go?" he whined.

Zexion glared at Demyx. "What about "mandatory" do you not understand?" Zexion said icily.

"Fine, fine. I'm going already." Demyx said, before mumbling. "Geesh, no need to get your panties in a bunch."

"What was that!?"

"Ah, nothing? Got to go!" Demyx all but shouted, running out of the room before vanishing in a corridor of darkness

Zexion sighed, rubbing his eyes in exasperation, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like idiot.

Lexaeus got up to eave as well, but was stopped by Zexion's hand on his shoulder.

"Did you save her?"

Lexaeus stared at him a moment before he said, " Yes."

"Good." Zexion responded. He vanished in corridor of darkness, leaving Lexaeus alone.

Before leaving, Lexaeus took a moment to reflect. Zexion, while loyal to the Organization to a fault, was willing to be flexible when it came to right and wrong so long as it did not interfere with the Organization's end goal. This gladdened Lexaeus. It meant the boy Aeleus had raised had survived in there, somehow. He wouldn't ever truly return, but, one day, when their hearts were restored, perhaps.

As for himself, Lexaeus could only think of one thing.

_I haven__'__t fallen. Not yet._

He knew Aeleus' would not approve of some of the actions he had done in the Organization's service. In fact, disapprove was not nearly strong enough a word for how he would react to some of the Lexaeu's actions in service to the Organization. But, today, Aeleus, the man Lexaeus used to be, would have been proud of his actions today. That, more than anything else brought a sense of accomplishment and contentment that Lexaeus knew was imaginary as it couldn't exist until he regained his heart.

He had done what was right. He had upheld Aeleus' memories instead of betraying them. No matter what had happened today, or what will happen, today was a good day.

With nothing left to do, he stepped into a corridor of darkness, leaving the Gray Area empty once more.

* * *

_This story has been brewing in the back of my head for a long time now. Lexaeus is, in my opinion, one of the more underused and underrated members of Organization XIII. This saddens me, as his character has so much potential. I wrote this story to try and expand on his character a bit, and well, give him a bit more time in the spotlight compared to what he got in the games._

_I'll admit that I was a bit hesitant when I was first writing this, as most people don't really like original characters, but I hope I did a descent enough job of fleshing Naomi's character out without making her seem like a mary sue._

_I think I'll go ahead and say that this is the first in a series of stories I may or may not write that are all in the same "universe", so to speak. I plan for this series to eventually become a true, well written mass crossover. It's a bit ambitious, but I think I'm going to give it a try._

_Anyway, please review. Got to help starving authors, right? I can't guarantee an immediate response, but I will get to you as soon as I can_


End file.
